


The Hidden Right Hand

by Horton_Writes8739



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horton_Writes8739/pseuds/Horton_Writes8739
Summary: One of Hydras creation, Morena, Named after the Russian goddess of winter and death.The Winter Soldiers right hand, kept from the public for decades and iced like a slab of meat until she was needed.-This is heavily based off of my Bucky DR-
Relationships: Isabella Cooper/Bucky Barnes, Morena/The Winter Soldier, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff/Vision





	The Hidden Right Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter breaks out of the brainwashing, and tries desperately to drag Morena out with him, she knows better.  
> For the most part

I was sat on a battered loveseat, the old ceiling fan squealing above me as it spun, circulating stale air through the hydra safehouse winter and I had been assigned for this small batch of missions. My thoughts were stuck replaying and critiquing my mission from yesterday as I twirled a small spark of electricity around my fingers, alternating it from hand to hand before letting it dissipate into the air around me. The low growl from the pit of my stomach reminded me that even though I didn't feel it, I was human- and in need of food.  
I decided to make a small dinner with the little self-preservation I knew, I dug through the barren cabinets of the kitchenette, only to find Kraft mac & cheese, oyster crackers and a can of beans. “Stale noodles it is” I grumbled in Russian, bringing some water to a boil by pressing a hand to the side of a pot, my palm glowing a deep red against the rusty metal.  
I was lost in thought reading the instructions on the back of the box as the macaroni cooked, when a thud makes me subconsciously slosh the water upwards, taking the brunt of my startlement as my body remained still, you let your guard down, the voice of my handler scolded from the back of my mind.  
I lazily glance over and nod a greeting to winter who was the cause of the sound, but I catch that his usual trained emotionless gaze, was more contorted  
my thoughts scramble to remember every micro expression I caught in my quick glance. ‘Pondering, maybe even disbelief’ he huffs softly before his quiet tread retreats to the hallway.  
Minutes pass and I drain the pasta into the sink, steam billowing up to leave a thin sheen on the wall of the sink and faucet.  
I feel the brush of his arm against me as he passes me to get to the small table,  
“How'd it go” I felt like a housewife asking her dear husband about his day at the office but something was up, so it sadly had to be done.  
“Captain rogers acted strange”  
I plate the macaroni and pad over to where he sits, clad in an old, fading “I ❤️ NY” shirt and sweats, me wearing the pretty much the same, I plop down in the opposite folding chair and slide the plate to him.  
“Care to elaborate on that?” I prompt, scooping more food onto my fork  
“He called me some random name”  
“Bucky, and i-i don't know, I responded?” he mumbled the last part, a question.  
I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth, returning it to the plate with a clank  
“Why?”  
“I don't know!” he abruptly pushes away from the table and stands, raking his hands roughly through his shaggy hair. I remain in my seat, my gaze never leaving the distressed man across from me, he paces for a while mumbling to himself and twisting his features as he does so.  
I decided to rise and place myself in front of where he was about to put a hole in his floor, he stops toe to toe with me, towering over my frame.  
“I feel wrong” his slate blue eyes overwhelmed with an amount of emotion I had never seen him show in our years as partners.  
Touch was rare with the two of us, we were trained to strangle, break, slaughter, not soft let alone affectionate touch. When I gently grasped his chin he seemed to pause  
“What feels wrong?”  
“I responded, I tried to play it off, but I reacted to it before I even realized” He lets out a defeated breath, leaning into my hand as he did so.  
“Go lie down, ill report to pierce” I say quietly, my hand slides away, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze before going to the mounted home phone, our “checking in” wasn't as high tech as it sounds, every 12 hours or after a mission winter or I simply dial the number that has been beaten into our heads, let it ring 6 times and hang up.  
Slipping the plates into the sink for a later time, I make my way through the abandoned apartment, shutting off lights and checking locks before finally making it to the single bedroom. Was it ideal- nope. But it was the closest we could get to our targets without being in city central (safehouse wise-)  
Winter seems to be sleeping, on the side closer to the door with his back to me, until I round the bed and slide into my side, closer to the opposing wall. I get under the thin sheet and roll to have my back to him, listening to rain pelt the streets of east Harlem. Sleep quickly muffling my heightened senses before fully pulling me under.  
\----  
That didn't last long- just barely conscious, I felt the bed dipping and shifting under me repeatedly, gasps for air and grunts. After one particularly harsh movement from winter's side I swiftly grabbed my handgun from the night stand and swiveled to my feet, only to be met by the thrashing figure of my partner, a dusty window was the only thing allowing me to see him as it was pitch black in the room. Clearing the room quickly before I crawled back to his side, winters face was contorted a he twitched and mumbled strange sounds that I assumed were words  
“Winter, wake up!” I whisper loudly, when he shows no sign of waking I gently take his large calloused hand in mine and send a small spark out of my finger tips. He startles into a sitting position coming face to face with me where I was perched at his side,  
His steel blue eyes come to meet my hazel ones as he pants out “I am Bucky.” his hand never left mine as the emotionless man crumbled before me.  
“What- are you delusional?” it came out a bit more harsh than intended but it has to be said  
“No, I saw my life, I saw me” he stammers and pushes his hair from his face  
“What does this have to do with “Bucky” all you saw was the life you've been living?”  
He seemed annoyed but can you blame me? He's claiming the identity of someone that star spangled bastard mistook him for.  
“No. it was my life, we grew up together”  
“We?”  
“Steve and I, stop cutting me off.” he says coldly  
I scoff and cross my arms, letting him proceed.  
He goes on, very detailed stories of his childhood with Steve. I sit and listen, piecing together what I could.  
Something really was up with winter, his flesh hand found its way back to mine, seeking comfort?  
I shift to sit comfortably beside him instead of the odd crouching position I had been maintaining, feeling him squeeze my hand when he needed to pause for a moment.  
He goes on for another hour at least, getting drafted, Steve?, being a pow, the team he and captain America built, falling from a plane- That part caught me off guard as it was the last thing that happened before we met, or my past self met. I was told he didn't want to be on America's side and joined hydra, he was told the same thing about me apparently, I wanted to run from the life of a housewife. That struck something in me, with no recollection of my past for the past 70 years that felt like a brick to the chest, they kidnapped me? Who am I?, *was  
I am a cold blooded, heartless machine, not someone with a family?  
I began to shake, flashes of the past, my past, running through my brain, like a damaged roll of film  
“Rena?”  
I turn my gaze to him, a concerned look pulled his usual stone features into a frown,  
I get up and go to the living room, leaving winter in the tousled bed.  
\----  
Sitting in the middle of the floor, I crossed my legs under myself and focused on pulling myself from the dusty floor, hovering about a foot above it.  
With a portion of my focus on that I used the rest to create a ring of each element around me  
Focus  
Fire  
Focus  
Water  
Focus  
Wind  
Focus  
Electricity  
I let out a deep breath, focusing on keeping each ring perfectly around me, the crackles of the electric ring and light whistle of wind filled the room.  
I had just been brought back onto missions after they brought me to this facility in Sokovia, where they had rebegan the experiments I went through so many decades ago, in hopes of replicating my abilities. The only 2 survivors got very different powers and were much younger than me, twin siblings, I wasn't allowed to know their names or anything about them really, but by the odd toys and battered stuffed animals, they couldn't be older than 16, mentally or physically.  
I had been brought in for the girl, she was much more powerful than the scientists even knew, after mentoring her for a year, I had witnessed astral projection, chronokinesis, telekinesis, telepathy, and she was able to bend my elements when we would spar.  
I kept my mouth shut and taught her the ways of focus and control.  
For her safety I never told the scientists about what I had taught her to do with these incredibly powerful abilities, and promised her such as a parting gift.  
I stay in that position, levitating criss-cross with my hands resting gently in the air, for 2 hours which apparently was just in time for the sunrise, when I open my eyes sun is peeking through the slim crack between the blackout curtains. I felt winter beside me, I had felt him there the whole time, allowing the rings to dissipate I bring myself high enough for my feet to touch and walk away from him to the room and change into “civilian” clothes.  
I'm studying myself in the grimy bathroom mirror when he appears behind me, silently I look at him quickly and turn back, brushing my hair into a braid  
“Your names Isabella”  
“Shut up” I snap, going to push past him  
He stops me, grabbing my wrist and holding me firmly in front of him “I'm not winter, and you are not Morena”  
“I said shut up, I'm not calling you Bucky, snap out of it!”  
His jaw sets “we are going to the tower, not to kill-”  
“-if you say we are turning ourselves in winter” I see his jaw grind at the use of winter  
“That is what I'm saying actually, if I stop checking in they will come for you, you’re my partner, that's not happening”  
“Cool speech.” I state bluntly, stepping out of his loosened grasp and returning to the mirror  
“Is that a yes?” he asks  
“Of course, you're my partner” The last part come outs quieter, a whisper  
“Meet you in the car” he leaves the room and his footfalls become further  
I shut the door and lock it behind him, crumbling to my knees as tears roll down my cheeks.  
Isabella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much me putting my marvel dr into writing,  
> I do not have a beta reader so please leave any advice, opinions or critiquing in the comments, Thank you for reading!  
> I appreciate every single one of you :)


End file.
